


lemon

by GhostyKitty



Series: Haikyuu Oneshots [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt No Comfort, Reader-Insert, mostly from oikawa's perspective, no beta lmao, nvm its all from oikawa's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostyKitty/pseuds/GhostyKitty
Summary: It's been a month since you left...Do not repost to a third party app or website
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Series: Haikyuu Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788043
Kudos: 32





	lemon

**Author's Note:**

> wew first reader insert fanfiction and it's ANGST.
> 
> inspired by Lemon by Yonezu Kenshi

It’s on rainy days like this that Tooru really wonders where it all went wrong. Was it something that he did? If he could go back in time could he have fixed what he did wrong? The two of you were so happy together. You stuck with him through everything, thick and thin. You were there during his past break ups, wins, and losses. He can still hear your voice greeting him after he gets off the court. He still expects to see you curled up on the couch after a long day of work with a steaming mug of tea in hand and a movie ready to play. 

Those days are gone now. 

Standing in the entrance to the apartment you used to share, soaking wet, he silently hopes that this past month has been a very vivid nightmare. Any moment now he’ll wake up in bed with you tucked against his side. That just maybe you’ll pop out and greet him with a hug and a warm towel to dry off with. Instead the only thing that greets him is silence. 

Ignoring the stinging pain in his chest, he kicks his soaked running shoes off his feet and leaves them askew in the entryway. Rather than leave a trail of water to clean up later he pulls his socks off as well and leaves them with the shoes. He drops his drenched bag next to the shoe cabinet as well. Maybe he’ll deal with it later. 

After setting an electric kettle to boil some water, he wanders into the bathroom and strips the rest of his sopping wet clothes and steps into the shower. He runs his hands through his light brown hair, squeezing the cold rain water from it before reaching for the shampoo. Some of it gets into his eyes when he rinses it out, leaving behind a sharp stinging sensation. After the water starts to run cold, he dries off and stumbles into the bedroom. The pajamas he took off this morning are still in the same heap he left them in, right next to the growing pile of clothes next to the nightstand, and the bed he used to share with you is just as messy. 

The electric kettle beeps five times, snapping him out of his thoughts, reminding him to at least drink something warm before getting into bed. He pulls the wrinkled pajamas on. The kitchen feels absolutely barren without anyone to use it. Ever since you left, his appetite has shrunk and his diet now mostly consists of frozen microwavable meals, or something from the convenience store just down the street. It’s not like he has the time to cook anyway. When he goes to retrieve a tin of chamomile tea from the top cabinet, a different tin falls out, landing on the counter. The pastel yellow color of the tin calls to him, asking him to open it and take a whiff of the contents. He refuses it’s request, places it back in its spot in the cabinet, and grabs his tin of chamomile. The gentle scent and flavor of the tea lend him some relief, subtly relaxing his shoulders. 

When Tooru finally collapses into his bed face down, his nose catches the bitter scent of lemons buried in the sheets, the scent of your favorite shampoo. No matter how many times he washes these sheets, the smell always lingers despite you no longer being here to imprint your scent upon them. It was almost as if you’d engraved a part of yourself into these sheets. Something in his throat catches as he tries to savor the lingering aroma, and tears start flowing down his face. He tells himself it’s just the shampoo he didn’t wash out, but these tears keep coming. No matter how much he wipes at them with his sleeves, they don’t stop. A sob escapes his throat. Then another, and another, and another…

The last time he cried this hard… he can’t remember. The only thing he knows is that you aren’t here for him to lean on, to offer him soothing words like you did back then. The already faint scent of lemons dissipates as his nose clogs up. Desperately, his fingers dig into the sheets, yanking them from the bed towards him, as if doing that will bring you back. He cries to the ceiling, clutching the sheets to his chest, as if they’ll be able to mend his shattered heart. 

It’s been a month since you left, and Oikawa Tooru never felt more alone.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know how i did. thank.


End file.
